


Carmania

by Kizzykat



Category: Alexander (2004), Alexander Trilogy - Mary Renault, Ancient History RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 20:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21482629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kizzykat/pseuds/Kizzykat
Summary: The story by proskynesis reminded me of my 2008 story so as it is quiet here, I thought I might as well repost it from ff.netJust Alexander trying to persuade Hephaestion that everyone should get married
Relationships: Alexander/Hephaestion
Comments: 7
Kudos: 54





	Carmania

“I’ve had an idea,” Alexander said.

  
They were reclining on a wooden platform fixed onto a wagon-bed for their progress through Carmania. The platform was draped with colourful rugs and huge cushions and a brightly tasselled canopy sheltered them from the sun. It had been Alexander’s idea to transport them this way, for after Gedrosia many of them, himself included, were in need of some serious rest but they had to move the army to an area where supplies were more plentiful. Supplies were coming in every day, but they wouldn’t last men long who had starved in the desert for weeks.

  
So Alexander had turned their journey into a triumphal, easy procession through this scrubland, and as they ate and slept on their journey, they also celebrated with the local wine. Both he and Hephaestion were a little drunk.

  
Hephaestion raised his eyebrows sceptically at Alexander. He knew Alexander had been cooking something for the last day or two: he’d recognised the daydreaming and the glint of far-away thoughts in Alexander’s eyes. It was never safe to leave Alexander without enough to do. He would either get drunk or concoct some hair-brained scheme. It was most dangerous when he did both.

  
He had begun to glow with health again, no longer grey and exhausted. Curiously, the dry desert air had been good for his chest wound and his breathing was much easier now. But he was beginning to get bored and restless after a week of taking it easy. Hephaestion watched as he pushed the stopper back into the neck of the wineskin he was holding and moved it aside among the cushions.

  
Hephaestion looked down at the dish of olives resting on his chest and selected one.

  
“Your last idea wasn’t exactly brilliant.”

  
“Oh, no. This idea is completely different. Nothing like Gedrosia. This one is really positive, and not at all dangerous.”

  
He watched fondly as Hephaestion put the olive into his mouth. Slowly, he was beginning to look better, no longer the walking skeleton that had emerged from the desert. Even the skin under his sunburn was beginning to soften.

  
“Gedrosia was not a total disaster,” he said as Hephaestion offered him the dish of olives. “We made it through.”

  
“By the skin of our teeth,” Hephaestion interrupted.

  
“The majority of us made it through,” Alexander reiterated. “And we reinforced the indomitable spirit and the invincible reputation of our army. We proved it was possible. We proved that nothing can defeat us. And maybe we can do it again one day – establish supply depots and open up a trade route to India.”

  
“Is this your big idea?”

  
“No, no, it’s got nothing to do with India.” He gazed at Hephaestion, his eyes kindling with excitement. Hephaestion waited. “You know we’re getting married when we get to Susa? You and me, to the Persian princesses?”

  
Hephaestion nodded as he ate another olive.

  
“Well,” Alexander said, sitting up against the cushions in enthusiasm, “wouldn’t it be a great idea if everyone else got married too?”

  
“Who?” Hephaestion looked at him blankly, his brain not functioning very well.

  
“Everyone. All our friends, all the senior officers in the army.”

  
“Alexander, that’s got to be at least fifty men. Who are they going to marry?”

  
“More like a hundred, I’ve been counting,” Alexander said. “And they’re going to marry noble Persian women. We’ll create a new aristocracy, a ruling class that will be both Greek and Persian, that will have sympathies with both races, that will understand both cultures. It will be a future that will never invade Greece again, that will never seek to crush or exploit the Persians either. We need a new generation, Hephaestion, that will not be blinkered into thinking one culture is better than the other, but will seek to work together with both peoples. Think what that will mean! Two great nations united through their children!”

  
Hephaestion regarded Alexander solemnly with round eyes, caught up in Alexander’s vision.

  
Alexander stopped, uncertain of Hephaestion’s reaction.

  
Hephaestion set down the olives, his brain suddenly clear. He dragged himself on an elbow across the cushions to Alexander, who looked at him tentatively.

  
Hephaestion placed a soft kiss on Alexander’s lips.

  
“You,” he said quietly, “are the biggest fool in the whole wide world.”

  
A little crestfallen, Alexander searched his face. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

  
“Oh, I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Hephaestion said. “A typically wonderful Alexander idea – idealistic, generous, grandiose, utterly impractical, and supremely optimistic.” He rolled onto his back on the cushions, his head tipped back into a dip between the cushions so that he was staring up at the purple canopy flapping in the breeze above them as the wagon jolted along the dusty road.

  
“You don’t think it will work?” Alexander asked.

  
“No. I think that our Macedonian officers will be insulted that you expect them to become kin to the men they have defeated in battle.”

  
“Why? The Persians have proven themselves noble foes, and honourable allies. We should be proud to ally ourselves with them. I am to do so and will continue the bloodline of Cyrus the Great, to make my children the legitimate heirs to Persia. And I want my officers to do the same.”

  
“I think I will have the devil of a time trying to persuade the Macedonians to agree with you.”

  
Alexander paused, a little startled. “You won’t have to do it all. I’ll help you.”

  
Hephaestion rolled his head and caught Alexander’s eye. “They won’t argue with you. You’re the King. They will argue and moan at me. And try to get me to make you change your mind.”

  
“But why?” Alexander said, squirming down in the cushions so that he was down at Hephaestion’s eye level. “It’s meant as a reward, a tribute for everyone’s superhuman efforts, a symbol of status, that I see them as my equals, and that I want them to share my hopes for the good times to come. They should be pleased it’s an indication that I’m thinking of the future, and heirs, and a more settled way of life.”

  
“They will see it as an indication that you don’t intend going home.”

  
Alexander drew back a little. “Well, I don’t yet. They can go home if they want to, but each of these brides will come with estates and dowries that I will provide. This will surely be an incentive to at least partially settle here.”

  
“What about the men who already have wives and mistresses that they love? Women like Thaϊs? She and Ptolemy have three children. They are not going to welcome a Persian wife.”

  
“But these are wives of state. They are not love matches. Yet hopefully, given time, they will become unions of respect and understanding. How better for our men to come to understand the hearts and minds of the people they are to command than through the good graces of their wives?”

  
Hephaestion looked at Alexander with a touch of sorrow. “Alexander, how will you persuade the Persians that this is not a total humiliation for them? That their daughters and sisters are not being sold into slavery as guarantors of their good behaviour? How will you persuade these young girls that they are not being given to foreign devils as the spoils of war?”

  
Alexander considered Hephaestion quietly with his large, luminous eyes. Slowly his eyes softened with tenderness and a small smile curved his lips. “You will do it beautifully,” he said quietly.

  
With a groan of exasperation, Hephaestion rolled away and buried his face in the cushions.

  
“You will,” Alexander persisted, not really perturbed by Hephaestion’s reaction, “because you can put yourself in their place. Because you can understand their hearts, you can persuade them that it is the best way forward.”

  
“The only way, you mean,” Hephaestion muttered into the cushions.

  
“No, I won’t force anyone who really objects,” Alexander protested. “But as the Great King, I can tell them what I want to happen but I can’t cajole them into doing it. As you can. You just need to persuade them that I mean it as a gesture of reconciliation.”

  
“Alexander,” Hephaestion objected, raising himself on his elbows in exasperation, “you really are indefatigable! Can you never just slow down and have a rest?”

  
“We’re having a rest now.”

  
With a groan, Hephaestion dropped his face into the pillows again. “You will be the death of me,” he moaned. “I want to go home.”

  
After a moment’s surprise, Alexander said, “You don’t mean that?”

  
“Of course not!” Hephaestion said, as if Alexander were dense. He turned his head on the cushions to eye Alexander through the strands of his hair. “But once, just once in the last five years, I would like to wake up in the same place for more than four days in a row.”

  
“So do I, and things will be easier, I promise,” Alexander said earnestly. “Now the empire’s secure, there will be time to set things right, time to settle and think about raising children. And I want all the Macedonians to share in the fruits of their labours, to see what it was all for: the future.”

  
“You want everyone to be like you.”

  
“Yes! They, and you too, are my brothers! My brothers in arms who deserve every reward and happiness I can give them. I want them to be my equals in riches and pleasure, for they are all heroes.”

  
“You need to tell them that and they might agree to take Persian women as wives.”

  
“I will. And I intend to legitimise the unions of any of the soldiers who have women and children and I will give them dowries too in celebration.”

  
Hephaestion pulled the long strands of his hair off his face. “Who’s going to organise this massive wedding?”

  
Alexander smiled. “I’ll give it to Chares and Bagoas. They’ll love running around and fussing like mother hens.”

  
“I am not getting married with sparkly, spangly bits everywhere,” Hephaestion said flatly.

  
Alexander laughed. “I’ll tell them to be dignified. Festive, but restrained and dignified.”

  
“Alexander, where are we going to find a hundred young women of noble birth?”

  
“Oh, that’s easy, I’ve been adding it up. Many of the noble families are already at Susa. A lot of those from Persepolis moved there after we fired the palace. There are also a lot of the Persian officers’ families with Craterus, and the families of those rebels like Bessus and Spitamenes, and we can send for more from Babylon. Barsine has two marriageable daughters too. I’ve got many of them worked out already …”

  
With a luxurious moan, Hephaestion rolled onto his stomach, stretched, and buried himself among the cushions.

  
Alexander touched Hephaestion’s shoulder blade lightly with his hand. “Don’t go to sleep,” he asked.

  
“I’m not,” Hephaestion mumbled. “You talk, and I’ll listen. Just give me one more day of rest, Alexander, and I promise I’ll do anything you want. I’ll run to Marathon for you, but just one more day.”

  
After a moment and in a quieter tone, Alexander said, “I thought I’d pay off all the men’s debts too. A fresh clean start for everyone.”

  
“Good idea.”

  
“They might be more willing then to re-enlist and go on to Arabia.” Alexander found his attention was not really on Arabia or weddings anymore as he watched Hephaestion lying among the cushions with his eyes closed.

  
“Arabia?” Hephaestion mumbled.

  
“Eventually, yes. In a couple of years. There’ll be a lot that needs setting in order first. How the empire is governed.”

  
He reached out a hand, ran it through Hephaestion’s hair and cradled the back of Hephaestion’s skull in the palm of his hand, just watching him.

  
He had almost lost Hephaestion in the desert. He had walked into the stifling heat of Hephaestion’s makeshift tent at the end of a burning day to wake him for their long march through the cooler hours of darkness, and for a heart-stopping moment he had thought he was dead. He lay on his bedroll, dry, gaunt, dusty and so still that Alexander could not see him breathing. He had stared down at him in stunned disbelief until he had seen the irregular heartbeat in the vein on his neck.

  
Hephaestion had been difficult to wake, and confused when Alexander had finally managed to rouse him. He had given him most of his own water ration for the night. His eyes closed, Hephaestion had had difficulty swallowing at first, but patiently Alexander had coaxed it down his throat, then laid his head down again. After a few moments, Hephaestion’s eyes had opened, but he didn’t seem to realise he had drunk. He had looked at Alexander without recognition, with mindless resignation, and it had taken several moments of Alexander cheerfully coaxing him before he had moved.

  
His legs had almost folded when he stood up, still without saying a word, his balance gone but for Alexander’s steadying hand. “Thank you,” he had said then, and walked precariously out into the blackness of the desert night.

  
Alexander had watched him helplessly in the hellish days that had followed as Hephaestion faded and grew weaker day by day. He had hung on by willpower alone though, until finally they had reached cultivated lands and they had all begun to eat and drink, sending out couriers to bring in all the supplies they could find.

  
He still did not know if Hephaestion realised how close he had come to death. His appetite had not yet fully returned and Alexander wasn’t sure he was sleeping properly either.  
“Have you gone to sleep?” Hephaestion asked from the pillows.

  
Alexander leant close to Hephaestion and whispered. “I’m sorry for Gedrosia. We did amazingly well to get the army through. We planned as well as we possibly could, but I’m sorry I chose that route. I’m sorry for all the suffering.”

  
His eyes open, Hephaestion said, “You suffered too. More than most with your chest wound, and carrying everyone else and worrying so much. I know you felt every death.”  
“But I’m as tough as old boots. It would take more than a desert to kill me.” With a smile, Alexander raised his hand, winding Hephaestion’s hair around his fingers. “You need a wife to pamper and cosset you and tease the tangles from this mop,” he said.

  
“You do too. Soon we’ll meet up with Craterus and then you’ll have Roxanne to look after you.”

  
“I haven’t seen her for four months.”

  
Hephaestion found it impossible to tell from Alexander’s voice whether he missed her or not. “Do you think she will be jealous when you marry Stateira?” he asked quietly.

  
“Yes. Undoubtedly.” Alexander concentrated on the strand of Hephaestion’s hair between his fingers.

  
Hephaestion smiled. “You have a big heart. There’ll still be room for her.” He drew a deep breath and moved, raising himself on his elbows. “How do you do that, Alexander?” he asked perplexedly.

  
“Do what?”

  
“Give me so much energy. I’m wide awake now and I could do anything.”

  
Alexander laughed. “We could get off and walk. See how everyone’s doing.”

  
“No, actually, I feel ... randy.” He looked sideways at Alexander with a slow smile.

  
Laughing, Alexander said, “I am not doing anything in full sight of every bull-headed soldier in my army.”

  
“Most of them are drunk. They won’t mind. And we’ve got plenty of blankets. Or I could drape myself casually across your lap.”

  
“Off! Don’t you dare!” Alexander laughed, fending Hephaestion away.

  
But Hephaestion persisted and pinned Alexander’s hips against the cushions with his own. He kissed Alexander’s lips, long and deeply as Alexander lay back with his head against the cushions, absorbing Hephaestion’s weight, warmth and closeness. Hephaestion caressed Alexander’s cheek with his hand and Alexander brought his hand up to hold Hephaestion’s arm.

  
Hephaestion broke the kiss, his lips reddened, and stared down solemnly at Alexander.

  
“I’d die for you,” he said quietly.

  
Alexander opened his mouth to protest, but Hephaestion laid his fingertips on his lips, silencing him. “Just in case I forgot to say it before,” he said. “Knowing it’s not about the power, or the glory, or the wealth, but about you, about serving you, that’s what makes it all bearable.” He stared at Alexander. “I just wanted to say that in case I never got another chance.”

  
“I’m not worthy,” Alexander whispered, tears burning his eyes.

  
“You are. You’ve worked your whole life to earn the love and devotion of men and women. You want to give them the earth, and they know that, otherwise all those deaths back there would be meaningless.”

  
“I …,” Alexander began hoarsely.

  
“Hush,” Hephaestion said. “Don’t get sentimental on me. I wanted to say that I understand what you’re trying to do with these weddings and though I think it’s doomed to failure, I will do everything in my power to make it work for you.”

  
Alexander found his voice. “You will.”

  
“Yes, and now I think I’d better get off you because I can hear Lysimachus and Seleucus laughing, which means we’re about to have company.”

  
Hephaestion moved away and Alexander sat up, wiping surreptitiously at his eyes, as Ptolemy, Seleucus and Lysimachus climbed aboard the float.

  
“Break it up, you two,” Ptolemy said cheerfully. “We saw you.”

  
“We’re totally innocent,” Hephaestion said, kneeling up as he retrieved a sunhat from among the cushions and jammed it on his head.

  
“Utterly,” Alexander said, taking refuge in the wineskin.

  
“I’m going for a walk,” Hephaestion said, climbing down from the wagon. “I’ve got a wedding to plan.”

  
“Eh?” Ptolemy said, relieving Alexander of the wineskin to take a drink. “Where’s he going?”

  
“I’ve had an idea,” Alexander said brightly.

  
“Oh. I see.”

  
“I want everyone to get married.”

  
“Who to?” Lysimachus asked, taking the wineskin.

  
“Persian women.”

  
“What’s in it for us?” Seleucus wanted to know.”

  
“Let me explain…,” Alexander began.


End file.
